


parallax error

by jan



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Gen, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 19:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4492419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jan/pseuds/jan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The part of this which isn't pre-series is set somewhere between the Matoba letter arc and the most recent Natori arc in the manga, which hopefully explains some of Natori's behaviour.</p>
    </blockquote>





	parallax error

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meguri_aite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meguri_aite/gifts).



> The part of this which isn't pre-series is set somewhere between the Matoba letter arc and the most recent Natori arc in the manga, which hopefully explains some of Natori's behaviour.

Making one's name as an exorcist is hard; restoring a tarnished reputation, harder. Who would trust their fortunes to a Natori, let alone a child of eighteen? Shuuichi takes what scraps he can get: assignments too trivial for experienced exorcists, those too dangerous for prudent ones. His successes are easy to dismiss as luck. The failures seem merely inevitable.

Today is another exercise in excuses, as Shuuichi backs up against a nearby tree, struggling to break the bonds around his wrists. The ayakashi raises a clawed hand--

\--and reels back, shrieking. Shuuichi blinks. Something's pierced the creature's flailing arm, but he can't make it out.

"Don't move, Shuuichi-san."

The blur resolves itself into an arrow. He glances upwards, already knowing whom he'll find in the nearby tree. "Why is it always--"

"Save your complaints for after you've freed yourself," Seiji retorts, fitting another arrow to his bow.

It strikes true. Of course it does.

The ayakashi disappears into Seiji's sealing jar, the restraints from its binding spell dissolve into dust, and Shuuichi tries to choke down the familiar resentment that wells up inside him. He doubts he'll succeed at that, either.

Behind him, a rustle of leaves suggests that Seiji has deigned to leave his perch. Shuuichi doesn't turn around. For all the practice he's had by now, he still doesn't trust his expression to hold steady.

"Long time no see," Seiji says.

Not long enough, Shuuichi thinks. "Thanks," he says, just to get it out of the way, to swallow what pride he has left before Seiji tramples all over it. "And congrats. Another one for your tally. Aren't there larger jobs you should be handling?"

It comes out more bitter than he'd intended; more honest. He _does_ turn around, then, embarrassed and angry with himself.

But Seiji's not looking at him. Or, no, that's not it -- he's looking at Shuuichi's wrists, instead. Chafed from the restraints, Shuuichi realises. His gaze snaps back up, catches Seiji's, and for a startled moment they're both staring at each other. There's something unguarded about Seiji's expression--

But then: "There are," Seiji says, turning away. "Try not to require help quite so often, Shuuichi-san."

Shuuichi doesn't rise to the bait. He's learnt that much. He doesn't even watch as Seiji leaves.

 

* * *

 

The next time they meet, Seiji smiles and says: "How nice to see you again, Natori-san."

 

* * *

 

As a rule, Shuuichi tries not to cross paths with Matoba. He knows it's childish, this conscious avoidance, but he has no shortage of excuses. Social obligations are tiring enough without someone like Matoba being involved. What drives Shuuichi is convenience, not cowardice. And then, it's not as if avoiding him takes much effort. It's easy to learn whether the Matoba leader will be in attendance at any given exorcist meeting, and Shuuichi's day job keeps him so busy that he rarely has to lie when he turns down invitations.

Which is why Shuuichi never expected to be here, today, searching for Matoba amongst the crowd of yet another gathering.

But then, there are many things he'd never have expected before he met Natsume.

Matoba is easy to spot, if only because of the obsequious flock that always gathers around him. Shuuichi heads over, prepared to wend his way through with his usual weapons of politeness and charm. But it doesn't come to that; Matoba turns to his interlocutors with a smile, some brief words, and then he's heading away, steps sure but unhurried, at a tangent to Shuuichi's path. There's a corridor in that direction, a secluded, window-lined space that Shuuichi remembers from years ago.

Not running away, but making the meeting easier, Shuuichi realises. From anyone else, the gesture would have been a courtesy; from him, it's simply patronizing.

When Shuuichi reaches the hallway, Matoba's already seated by the window. "Natori-san. What brings you here?"

Matoba bothers to smile in greeting. Shuuichi can't imagine why. Here, away from the crowds, there's no need for the hypocrisy of pleasantries.

"I heard what happened at the last meeting. I'd appreciate if you stayed away from Natsume."

Matoba's smile twists with amusement. "That's very restrained of you. 'Stay away from Natsume!', you mean. But what are you to him, to demand that? Besides, I wasn't the one who introduced him to this community."

"That was... a mistake. I know that, now. Which is why I'm trying to fix it."

Matoba folds his hands into the sleeves of his haori, leans back against the windowsill. "How noble. What are you afraid of? The day he realises where he belongs?"

"Not with _you_. I won't let you make him think otherwise."

They both know it is an empty threat; Matoba doesn't bother pointing it out. "Natsume-kun is stronger-willed than you give him credit for. I can't expect him to know better, but you -- has your vision been clouded? Do try to imagine what it could mean for him. He'd have no shortage of comrades who could tell him about this world, who could teach him how to wield his considerable skill."

"A power-hungry house eager to use him, you mean. Natsume should never have met--"

Matoba laughs; a short, dry sound. "But he did. It's too late for that. Whom exactly are you trying to save, _Shuuichi-san?"_

The name is a slap to the face. Shuuichi flinches despite himself; wants to say something angry, something childish like _Don't call me that_.

Instead he breathes in, holds that breath, holds his tongue. Feels the shadow-lizard skitter over the back of his left hand.

"I thought so," Matoba says, and Shuuichi can't tell which is worse: the earlier condescension, or the faux-pity that now coats his words. "Ah, Natori-san. Not everyone regrets getting involved with the Matoba clan, you know."

"Natsume doesn't want anything to do with you."

Matoba's smile doesn't waver. "Perhaps you should stop confusing his feelings with your own."

The sound of approaching footsteps saves Shuuichi from having to find a reply. Matoba's gaze flickers away. He stands, strides past Shuuichi and back towards the main hall.

Shuuichi doesn't know why he expected anything else.

 

* * *

 

He meets Natsume a week later, by chance rather than design. Natsume's annoying bodyguard is mollified by the suggestion of a trip to Nanatsujiya, and the three of them end up eating their purchases (Shuuichi's purchases, to be accurate) on the grassy slope of a riverbank.

Maybe it's the careless wind, or the sight of the lazy river. Or maybe it's the fact that their meeting was unplanned -- a step closer to being something genuine -- that allows Shuuichi to think of broaching the subject.

"Hey, Natsume."

Natsume looks up from his daifuku. "Hm?"

Shuuichi pauses, feeling suddenly foolish. It isn't as if he can bring up the topic of Matoba, let alone that letter. He can't let Natsume know that he knows. Natsume would be angry, suspicious, possibly even feel betrayed. And rightly so.

_What are you to him?_

Natsume's expression is growing faintly impatient. Shuuichi fumbles for the right words. What is it he wants to say? What needs to be heard? Not _Stay away_ or _Watch out_ , not a warning. No, he realises: the opposite.

"Natsume. When I said that I wanted to support you, to be a source of strength -- I meant it, you know? If you need help, advice, anything, you can come to me. Any time."

Natsume looks surprised. Not in that way which he used to be, back when Shuuichi first met him, when he seemed bewildered by the very thought that someone could care about him. This is a simpler, straightforward surprise, probably prompted by nothing more than Shuuichi's uncharacteristic sincerity.

Something in Shuuichi's chest hurts. He assumes it's for the right reasons.

"Thanks, Natori-san," Natsume says eventually. And then he smiles -- soft, _real_ , and that's new, too -- and adds, "I'm okay, though. I'm not... I mean, I have..."

"Your friends, right?" Shuuichi says, smiling back. He remembers that Tanuma boy. "I'm glad. But you don't have to be the only ones rushing to rescue each other. Don't forget that."

Natsume nods, clearly embarrassed. Shuuichi laughs. It's the easiest response; it might even be an honest one.

There's more he could say, of course, a litany of cautionary tales about politics and power, about the impossibility of truly leaving the exorcist community once it has you in its grip. But for now, Natsume's still safe, still free. He has an ayakashi who's more guardian than bodyguard, friends with the sight to support him, a determination to find his own path.

"I'm glad," Shuuichi says. He is.

There's more he could say, not least to himself. But he looks out across the river, and refuses to remember, and lets it go.

**Author's Note:**

> \- please feel free to read this with pining!matoba goggles ~~because that's certainly how i wrote it~~
> 
> \- [this](http://momopumpkin.tumblr.com/post/111730117575) may have been the corridor i was thinking of


End file.
